What are they thinking? I ask myself this question during intersession, as I wearily look at the piles of books and papers hiding the floor of my room. I allow myself to address the question only after my last final, when my answer is less likely to be biased by the stress of exam period.

Yet, even now, as the spring semester begins, the question still lingers. As I flip through syllabi and browse reading lists, I question the professors of this fine school. What are my professors thinking when they assign such overwhelming amounts of reading? Do they honestly think it feasible to read, understand and appreciate 150 pages of dense reading each week? Are they not aware that Harvard students are enrolled in other courses, that students also have a life outside of academia? Since when did more become synonymous with better when it comes to education?

Like many Harvard students, I used to spend endless hours studying before finals and midterms. I tried to absorb every bit of information assigned, in the hope of avoiding any unpleasant surprises on the exam. Although mastering all of that knowledge was feasible, the cost, I realized, was too high--and not worth paying.

I was not alone in my agony. I looked around during exam period and watched other students as they walked through the Yard on their way to take a test. I observed them as they entered the library carrying a bag almost half their weight. I noticed their expression as they sat in agitated silence in the classroom prior to taking an exam while ensuring that they had all the crucial information memorized. What I heard or saw was not curiosity but anguish, not excitement but anxiety, not active pursuit but passive resignation.

Does the pain, at the very least, lead to meaningful gain? What is the nature of our relief when we look back upon a semester, or a year? When the semester is over, do we acknowledge and appreciate the significance of all we have learned, or are we simply glad to be done?

It took me a while, but I finally decided that for me the pain just wasn't worth it. I started looking for ways that would make my academic life here tolerable. I divided and conquered material through study groups. I discovered the succinct summaries available in bookstores (better known as Cliffs Notes). I mastered the art of skimming and learned how to gauge what my TFs and professors wanted. For the first time since coming to Harvard, I was able to devote more time to material that I found interesting.

Yet the initial question still resonates strongly and remains unanswered. In a stressful environment, is there any room for reflection, let alone creativity? Is this the essence of good education? How much of what we memorize for a test actually stays with us?

Considering the current situation, it is not surprising that we constantly hear sarcastic remarks. "Half of what you learn in college is not important, the other half you forget." Or, "people enter school as question marks and leave as periods." Sometimes, "it doesn't matter what we think but what our professors are thinking."